The Great Goldfish Rescue of '24

I never thought my summer job at the neighborhood pool would involve a spinach smoothie and a rescue mission, but here we are.

It started when Madison, the head lifeguard who I'd been lowkey crushing on all June, dared me to try her new "health kick" smoothie. "It's literally just spinach and banana," she said, leaning against the concession stand counter. "Unless you're scared?"

The challenge was issued. I wasn't about to back down.

"Bring it," I said, trying to sound casual while my stomach did flips.

The first sip was like drinking a lawn that had been through a blender. But Madison was watching, so I chugged the whole thing like a champ. She laughed — actually laughed — and I felt like I'd just won the lottery.

Then she got serious. "Hey, can I ask you a favor? My little brother won his goldfish at the carnival yesterday, and my mom said it can't stay in the house. She told him to release it in the pool."

"No way," I said. "That's literally toxic for fish. The chlorine will kill it."

"I know! But he's eight and he won't listen. He's already there, doing it." Madison bit her lip. "Will you...?"

"Say no more."

I found her brother standing by the shallow end, plastic bag in hand. The goldfish — a tiny orange speck — was already swimming in circles, looking completely confused.

"Yo, little dude," I called out, dropping to my knees by the edge. "That fish is gonna have a bad time in here."

He looked ready to cry. So I did what any self-respecting sixteen-year-old would do: I rolled up my uniform pants, waded into the three-foot section, and cupped my hands to scoop out the goldfish like I was some kind of wildlife rescuer on Netflix.

Madison's brother cheered. I walked the fish to the pond behind the parking lot, Madison trailing behind us with the plastic bag.

"You're basically a hero," she said as we watched the goldfish swim away in its new home. Her phone buzzed. "Oh, and my cable's out at home. Want to come over and help me figure it out? My parents won't be back until dinner."

I'd had a stomach full of spinach, rescued a fish from certain death, and somehow managed to secure an invite to Madison's house.

Best. Summer. Ever.